With two words the truth comes out
by Claude Amelia Song
Summary: written for ql r8s6


**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

 **Warning: Dumbledore dies just like in the sixth book.**

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Pride of Portree

CHASER 3: K-pop song - Dinosaur by AKMU. Theme - believing in the unbelievable even when nobody else does.

Optional Prompts: 1. (word) forgive

4.(emotion) frustration

7\. (phrase) on his/her knees

Words: 3000

 **A huge thank you to Shannon for helping me with the ideas:)**

 **Beta: Thank you Aethra, Sarah and Oni!**

Author's Note: I believe Snape's innocence at the level of the sixth book is pretty unbelievable.

The story is set in the sixth book in the night of Dumbledore's death. Here Hermione went alone to Snape's office because she wanted to be alone and think of the things that didn't connect: the headmaster's hand, Snape's expression.

She refused to forget the truth, even if Minerva, Remus, Tonks and Alastor will have their memory spell reversed (memory spells can have timer) it is better if she can remember. And after all she'd worked hard for it to come out. And come out it had even if they all forgot.

She knows Snape isn't the best person, but she also knows he's not a murderer. That's why she fights. If he is not it means he did not betray and that means he is still on their side; risking his life.

* * *

 _Believing in unbelievable when no one else does_

 _to be able to forgive when one cannot stop hating_

 _to help someone on his knees when no one would_

 _worths more than gold_

OoO

Hermione was at the window looking out, Ron in an armchair near her. They were both awaiting Harry's return from his appointment with Professor Dumbledore. Ron was busying himself with a game and she was staring blankly, into the night sky. She was ruminating over the things she'd noticed since the year had started — things that just didn't make sense. Naturally, she knew that they were at the brink of a war, but lately, she couldn't help but feel that time was running out.

There were so many things she wanted answers to. She'd asked Professor Dumbledore about his hand, but he'd just brushed her off, saying he'd had an accident. She didn't quite believe him, but she hadn't pressed any further. What was the point? The old man never revealed things until he thought the time was right.

She'd reached her own conclusions, though. After a lot of research, there was only one possibility for the injury he had—a curse of some sort. And it was likely worse than it looked. The hand was dead, and in the months that had passed she'd seen how the blackness had spread.

She wasn't sure anyone else had noticed; Dumbledore proved to be very good at hiding it. Besides, he was considered the most powerful wizard of their time, so if anyone _had_ noticed, they probably assumed he had a plan. But Hermione knew he wasn't infallible. In the end, he was just human — he made mistakes, just like they all did. She'd seen it before: the Philosopher's Stone and Sirius Black...not to mention his behaviour with Harry in their fifth year. She was frustrated with everything about Albus Dumbledore. And now there was this nonsense regarding a pact between the Headmaster and his Potions Master according to something Hagrid overheard.

She was also frustrated because the Potions Master knew what was wrong with Dumbledore, but refused to tell her more about it. This was compounded by the fact that Hermione had finally figured out that it was he who had called himself the Half-Blood Prince back in school! It was Snape's fault—he'd written the book Harry was now using! The book Harry was cheating with! It wasn't fair at all. Hermione wasn't only frustrated; she was concerned too. The night before, she'd gone to Snape in a rush of what could be considered Gryffindor bravery or foolishness and asked what had happened to Professor Dumbledore's hand. Even now, she couldn't forget the look in his eyes as she'd asked. It had been just a fleeting lapse, but she _saw_ — and she _knew_.

Harry appeared in the doorway and interrupted her musings; he looked distressed. Ron looked over at her and they both waited, a question on their collective lips _. What did Dumbledore want?_

But Harry didn't acknowledge them.

"Are you alright?" she asked finally, fidgeting nervously.

"I'm okay," he said, then turned and ran up to the boys' dorm only to come back just as fast with the Marauders Map, a pair of socks, and his Cloak.

"Look, we're leaving tonight. He thinks he found one of them — _a you-know-what."_ He couldn't say Horcrux out loud. "It'll be up to you to keep an eye on Malfoy. "Ron started to protest, but Harry shouted him down. "No! Listen to me!" he said angrily, "I _know_ he was in the Room of Requirement and I know he was celebrating something; that means his work must be done. So, whatever he's up to, he will probably put his plan in motion tonight when Dumbledore is gone. Take this," he said putting the Marauders Map into Hermione's hands and the socks into Ron's.

"Why would I need socks, mate?" Ron asked, confused.

"Consider them lucky," he said. "Share it between you two, and give it to Ginny, too." He let out a long sigh. "Please, take care of yourselves — and each other."

Hermione nodded. So he'd felt it too.. Something was very, very wrong.

"Make sure you are using it," he said, motioning towards the map. "And watch Snape, too!" Harry held up a hand to silence Hermione's protests before they started. "I know you don't believe me. Dumbledore says he put extra protection on the school but what if Snape is involved? He would know, so watch him carefully. See if you can get in touch with any of the DA members and make them aware we need people."

"Wait, Harry!" she shouted trying to stop him, to ask him something about Dumbledore, but the words died in her throat; he was already gone.

Professor Snape, a traitor? Hermione couldn't believe it. Harry was wrong. She didn't trust the man because the headmaster did, she trusted him from his actions. Sure, he really wasn't a good teacher, quite the opposite — but she'd realised she perhaps would be too if she were forced to do something she disliked or even hated. He started too young, and for all the wrong reasons; and that was before she considered his spying. Hermione had a healthy dose of sympathy towards Snape; and she was most certainly alone in that.

She and Ron had leapt into action. She took a sip from the potion that was inside of the sock and left to call DA members for help, giving Ron the map.

"I'm going to watch Professor Snape's office."

He looked at her and nodded. He would check on Malfoy and give Ginny her part of the potion. They understood each other well after all their years of friendship.

"Ron," she said as she was exiting; he looked at her, understanding on his face. "Take care."

"You too."

* * *

Hermione hid in the hallway next to the Potions Master's office. She didn't agree with Harry on this particular point, but she _had_ promised. Hermione was reminiscing about the pained look she'd seen on Snape's face when Professor Flitwick suddenly appeared. He paid her no mind, rushing past her into the Potions Master's office.

Seconds later, Professor Snape exited his rooms. He immediately glared into the shadows where Hermione was hiding and told her that Professor Flitwick wasn't feeling well and she should look after him.

"No, I'm coming with you! You may need help!" She fumbled, quickly trying to cover her tracks.

He stopped so abruptly that she almost fell, and turned back to look at her. For the first time Hermione saw him with uncertainty in his eyes.

"Foolish girl, I do not need help and even if I did, I most certainly would not need _yours_." He stalked off at a pace Hermione could barely keep up with. Still, he said nothing further as she followed him.

When they stopped she realised they had reached the Astronomy Tower. It was only then that she heard the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Snape turned, pointed his wand at her, and put his finger on his lips. He didn't need to worry, she wasn't going to give them away. He turned away and made himself known.

Hermione wanted to stop him, but if she spoke or made any sudden movements she'd doom them both. Looking down at her own hand she realized she had been Disillusioned by Snape. She looked up again towards Snape — the whole group of them — she could see Dumbledore now, too. The man was looking at the Potions Master with…something like a command in his eyes? And it was like he was looking at her, too. As if he could see straight into her soul.

"Severus… please," he pleaded, but his eyes were encouraging, almost peaceful.

Severus Snape raised his wand and with a flash of green light she watched the headmaster let go of it all. As he fell, his blue eyes were thankful.

Hermione fell on her knees, staring at the body of a great man. When she finally got up she knew one thing. Severus Snape was braver than they gave him credit for and much better than they've thought.

* * *

Severus couldn't believe he'd done it. He'd always known that he wasn't one of the good guys, and other than Albus, most thought he was evil. Now, though, he'd killed the only person who'd known the truth. It sure felt like cold-blooded murder, despite Dumbledore's reassurance. He was guilty—he'd said the words! Severus didn't care about punishment, he knew he wasn't going to survive anyway. But until then he'd carry his shame and guilt and would do his best to carry out the last of his orders. _Protect the school. Give Harry the sword. Tell him the truth when the time is right._

* * *

The fact that she was still invisible showed how powerful the spell was. Hermione pondered what to do. She wasn't a fool, she couldn't go and say Snape was not guilty. They wouldn't believe her. She'd seen Harry shouting and running after Snape. He'd seen everything as well.

She believed he hadn't murdered Dumbledore and she would tell them so. However, she couldn't endanger him; he was still _a_ spy for the Order and he needed his cover. Perhaps that had been the plan all along; Hermione was sure of the command she'd seen in the headmaster's eyes.

* * *

"Where's Hermione? Where?" She heard Harry's shouting and Ron's broken reply.

"Harry, she was watching Snape's office…"

"That monster?!"

"He didn't hurt me," Hermione said.

Everyone turned.

"Hermione? Why...why are you Disillusioned?" Lupin asked, cancelling the spell with a wave of his wand.

"I...I did it myself. To stay hidden," she whispered, hoping no one would see through her lie.

"I can't believe he deceived us all," said Professor McGonagall, startling Hermione. She hadn't noticed her before. "He _killed_ Albus."

"And then he ran like a coward, the _murderer_ ," Harry hissed, voice full of venom. Ginny was standing near him, tracing circles on his back.

"No," Hermione said. It was too much. No matter how unbelievable it was she couldn't stay silent.

"What?" All eyes turned to her, including Mad-Eye Moody. Hermione looked at them confidently, and said: "He's not a murderer!"

Everyone else looked at her in disbelief.

Harry growled in anger, almost making her step back. "Why are you defending him? You always defend him! But this time you can't make excuses for him!"

"Harry—"she started.

"No, Hermione! _I was there_! I was on my knees, frozen by a Full Body Bind under the Invisibility Cloak and I saw Snape murder the headmaster. Face it—he betrayed us!"

"He is not!" she said again, glaring at everyone.

"Girl, once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," said Moody glaring at her. Hermione knew he'd never really trusted Snape. Or saw him as one of them. No one ever did.

"Maybe," she conceded, "but he's still no murderer."

"Oh, really? Do you fancy him or something? Why do you keep defending him? I know what happened. **I was there**! Where were you? Kissing him?!"

"Mr. Potter!" Minerva McGonagall said sharply; he'd crossed a line.

Hermione was filled with frustration and humiliation as tears welled up in her eyes. She realised she couldn't say everything with Harry standing there, not when Voldemort could possibly sneak into his mind.

"Fine!" she shouted. "Don't believe me! But _I know_ that what _I believe_ it's true." And she left despite the fact that she desperately wanted to respond. _**I was there!**_

Hermione ran to the foot of the Astronomy Tower; the body was still there. Nobody had dared yet to move the lifeless body of one of the most brilliant wizards of all time.

She fell to her knees and took his cold hand in hers.

"I don't think I'm wrong, Headmaster. I know what I saw. You asked him, not begged. You asked. I believe that. But no one else does. And unless...I don't know how to make them believe. They weren't here." Tears were in her eyes. She closed them, remembering.

" _Severus,... please." Crystal blue eyes staring into her soul, not pleading but peaceful._

 _"Severus...please."_

She wasn't wrong. They were.

* * *

Hermione closed the Daily Prophet with a snap. _Severus Snape, Murderer!_ was on the the front page and had occupied half of the issue. Everywhere in the Wizarding World there was talk about the murder, about how he did it in cold blood. They were wrong. So very wrong.

Her friends looked at her like she was mad, especially Harry. He couldn't forgive her words, not yet. He was hurting and she understood that.

And the truth was she'd expected something, _something_. Hermione hadn't seen the headmaster the type to wait for death, brought to his knees by the curse in his hand. _He'd take action._

"Miss Granger, are you alright? You don't have to come. Albus would have… would have understood," came the voice of her favourite professor and Hermione realised she'd been glaring at the paper for quite some time.

"Yes, he would have," she muttered, "but I'm not sure I understand _him_." And with that she left towards the assembled area, taking a chair in the front, opposite Harry.

She didn't hear anything, nor did she see anything, but Fawkes' anguished cry and firey disappearance. Somehow she knew they'd see him again.

She registered someone muttering _murder_ in the crowd. She kept silent, not looking who it was. She believed in Snape; whether they did or didn't was their business. But it frustrated her that she couldn't do anything to help the situation. Hermione regretted thinking badly about Luna and her father for their beliefs. It was awful when you believed and others didn't, when they saw you as crazy.

After funeral, she decided she would climb up to the Tower one more time before she left Hogwarts.

"Hermione?"

She turned around, startled to hear Harry calling to her. They'd been at odds all year thanks to the Half-Blood Prince and his Advanced Potions Book, but he'd been there for her when...things with Ron were…

"Yes?" she said, biting back tears.

"I'm sorry," he said, not looking at her. "I shouldn't have—"

She hugged him, cutting him off.

"I forgive you. I've already done it. You're like my brother, I can't stay mad at you. You don't believe me, that's alright, but you gotta believe I'm with you. Alright?"

He nodded and she left him, the tower in her mind. The blue eyes and the voice followed her still; invisible like a ghost.

Suddenly, she changed directions. The painting of Dumbledore from the headmaster's office had been sleeping ever since, refusing to speak. _But it had to know the truth. And she wanted to make him say it._

Hermione arrived in front of the gargoyle and she realised she didn't know the password.

"Let me pass please. For your former owner," She murmured, touching the stone.

To her surprise, it leapt aside.

She run up the stairs and—

"Miss Granger!"

Professor McGonagall, Mad-Eye Moody, Lupin, and Tonks were all there.

"What are you doing here?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione couldn't lie to her.

"I've come to speak with the painting of Professor Dumbledore."

Moody narrowed his eyes at her. "You've come again with your nonsense?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes too. "It is not nonsense. I believe I am right."

"Hermione," Lupin started, trying to keep things calm, but it seemed Moody was too angry.

"You dare tell me it's not nonsense?! I told Albus time and time again not to trust that snake and look where that got him! You silly girl!"

Hermione growled. _She didn't know? She dared? They weren't the ones who were haunted by blue eyes and voices, two words in her head, over and over.._

"Severus... please," she said and everyone looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

"What?" Tonks asked, her hair turning grey.

 _"Severus...please!"_ she repeated, louder this time. "These are the words that have been haunting me! That and his crystal blue eyes. I believe Professor Snape isn't guilty. I dare because I _know_. I was there too. I saw it happen."

"Miss Granger?" Minerva McGonagall asked, shock on her face.

"That's why I'm here. To ask our headmaster about this, about my belief. Everyone hates Snape, considers him a murderer. I'm sure he has nightmares about what he was forced to do!"

"I apologise, Miss Granger," a soft voice said to everyone's shock. The blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore were staring at her.

* * *

Hermione stood in the Astronomy Tower watching the stars one last time. She was leaving Hogwarts in the morning and she didn't know when she'd come back again.

For a few shiny moments she hadn't been alone. They'd believed her. The Headmaster had apologized to her, explained, but he'd convinced everyone that it would be better if they obliviated themselves. Hermione had refused, but the others had accepted even if they hadn't liked it. They all had been mad, especially Professor McGonagall, but for the greater good they had agreed to erase each other's memories. No one could suspect anything. Now she was back to square one.

She'd refused to forget and they hadn't pushed her, _he_ hadn't pushed her. Hermione could sense he was feeling guilty that his death plagued her. And maybe because he knew professor Snape needed someone to believe in him when no one did.

But now she knew she'd have allies when the time would be for her to help and clear the Potions Master's name for good.

* * *

In a dark room at Spinner's End, said Potions Master slept peacefully for the first time since that fateful night. Newspapers with his face were all around the room and he knew everyone hated him; _he_ hated himself. He was guilty! But for some reason, that night there were no nightmares, only deep and dreamless sleep.


End file.
